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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893891">Healing the sense of unworth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzy_the_Lizard/pseuds/Lizzy_the_Lizard'>Lizzy_the_Lizard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blind Character, Blindness, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics, More comfort than hurt, Physical Disability, Recovering From Internalized Ableism, References to Depression, acquired disability, battlefield injury (not on screen), idiot witcher, internalized ableism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:08:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzy_the_Lizard/pseuds/Lizzy_the_Lizard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
            <p>Best if he’d just…</p>
<p>…go.</p>
<p>Leave. Not be a burden.<br/>He’d rather go on his own terms than waste away in this old keep.<br/>It could have been hours or minutes before the sorceress came back. However long it was, he hadn’t moved the whole time.</p>
          </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Bear and the Marigold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273713">With a Conquering Air</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics">inexplicifics</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Best if he’d just…</p>
<p>…go.</p>
<p>Leave. Not be a burden.<br/>He’d rather go on his own terms than waste away in this old keep.<br/>It could have been hours or minutes before the sorceress came back. However long it was, he hadn’t moved the whole time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This starts angsty, I know, but it will become fluffy-er, I swear!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He opened his eyes and<br/>Nothing. Darkness.<br/>“Marik,” that was the voice of the sorceress, the healer, “Marik, can you understand me?”<br/>Why couldn’t he see? What happened? The archgriffin. Claws. Pain.<br/>He wasn’t aware that he was thrashing until he heard Marigold call out and strong hand pushed him down.<br/>“Calm down brother. She’s just trying to help you.” Junod. Junod was here.<br/>Why couldn’t he see?<br/>“Fuck, Marik! Calm down! You were our on patrol with Ivo and Kolgrim, a damned archgriffin attacked you. Fuck, Marik. He clawed your eyes out.”<br/>He stilled. Went completely slack. Only hearing the blood rushing through his ears.<br/>Blind.<br/>Blind.<br/>Blind.<br/>He had been blinded by a fucking monster.<br/>Fuck.<br/>Fuck.<br/>Fuck.<br/>He was fucking useless now. A blind Witcher. Sure, he still had his hearing and his sense of smell, but that wouldn’t help him when he ran face-first into a wall.<br/>“Not how I would have done it.” Marigold sighed, “Well, I need to get some herbs, get some rest Marik.”<br/>The creaking of an old chair. Footsteps on stone. A door opening. “Take your time, it’s a lot to process.”<br/>He knew what the room looked like. Had been here many times for himself and his brothers. Knew that if he were to walk out of the door and down the hall he’d be able to see into the courtyard. If he were still able to see…<br/>Eyes clawed out. Out. No healing from that. Some things couldn’t even be healed by magic.<br/>Useless.<br/>Useless.<br/>Useless.<br/>He couldn’t even train the younglings. How to train someone if you can’t see them? Correcting their form, stance, grip.</p>
<p>Best if he’d just…</p>
<p>…go.</p>
<p>Leave. Not be a burden.<br/>He’d rather go on his own terms than waste away in this old keep.<br/>It could have been hours or minutes before the sorceress came back. However long it was, he hadn’t moved the whole time.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>He could hear them talking outside. Marigold, Junod and the Wolf, fuck.<br/>“It seems that his body does not want to heal. I’ve done all I can, but if his witcher healing doesn’t kick in…” she trailed off.<br/>“Hmm. Do you know why he isn’t healing?” The Wolf asked.<br/>“I fear it’s mental…”<br/>“He’s not fucking crazy.” Junod butted in, snarling<br/>“Not what I wanted to say. He doesn’t think he deserves to be healed. He does not want to heal.”<br/>“Why wouldn’t he want to?” Junod asked.<br/>“I can hear you” Marik murmured.<br/>The Wolf let out a low sigh. The door opened, but only one person entered, Triss.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>“Do you think you’re ready to go down for supper today?”<br/>“Hmm.”<br/>“As eloquent as the Wolf. You need to get up Marik. Lying around won't help you, your eyes are as healed as they will ever be.”<br/>“Hmm.”<br/>“I swear, I will have Junod and Ivo drag you downstairs, just you see.”<br/>“Fine. I’ll go. If that will make you leave me be.” The last thing he wanted was to see his brothers see him like this.<br/>“He talks! Now get up and dressed, supper is in five minutes.”<br/>Grumbling he grabbed for his shirt and pulled it over his head.<br/>After a week he could navigate the infirmary fairly well, the rest of the keep would be harder.<br/>When he was dressed, he let Triss hook her arm under his and led him down the hall, to the stairs into the great hall.<br/>Silence fell when he entered, he could <em>feel</em> the stares from the other people on his skin.<br/>He will not run. Looking straight ahead, he let Triss lead him to the Bear table.</p>
<p><br/>He ate in silence, he did not want their pity.</p>
<p>Bears are solitary creatures after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. To Charge him with Blindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW at the bottom</p>
<p>This is still more hurt than comfort, sorry.</p>
<p>*hides in doghouse*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think it’s time for you to move back into your own room,” Triss said the morning after he went down to dinner for the first time since… the incident.<br/>Marik grunted. He might as well, at least then he wouldn’t have to put up with her endless chatter.</p>
<p>To be alone.</p>
<p>Bears are solitary creatures. They don’t need others. They shouldn’t need others.</p>
<p>He had friends. His brothers. Maybe even one or two Witchers from other schools. But they weren’t close.</p>
<p>Bears are solitary creatures. They don’t need others. They shouldn’t need others.</p>
<p>“Probably better if I get out of your hair. I trust you have done all you can.”</p>
<p>“Believe me, if I could…”</p>
<p>“Somethings can’t even be healed by magic. I know.”</p>
<p>He gathered his things. There weren’t many, clothing neatly stacked at the right side of his cot. A dagger underneath his pillow.</p>
<p>“Do you need anyone to…?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine. I think I know the way back to my own bed.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And indeed, he did make it back to his room, hand trailing alongside the wall, gripping the railing of the staircases. He wasn’t afraid to fall. He trusted his body to react and catch himself, but it would be embarrassing, humiliating. Who had ever heard of a Witcher who fell down the stairs? Even a blackout drunk Witcher could always catch themself.</p>
<p>It was early, lucky for him, most other Witchers were out training, or in the hot springs.</p>
<p>He should bathe. Later.</p>
<p>After a nap. Navigating the keep with only his hearing and scents guiding him was exhausting.</p>
<p>“Fuck.” He had lost focus for just a second, and promptly stumbled over a stray *thing*. Fuck, he couldn’t even tell *what* had tripped him up.</p>
<p>Carefully, he reached for the bed, it should be here somewhere.</p>
<p>Ah, callused fingers found worn wood, knowing where the bed was, would help him keep his bearings.</p>
<p>Now, he just had to bend over and reach for the thing that had tripped him.</p>
<p>Carefully he ran his fingers along the edge, it was flat, made of leather, a bit bigger than his hand and slightly curved. Huh, a pauldron, must have fallen off the neat pile he usually stacked his armour… but he didn’t take his own armour off this time. He knew he had put it on when he left for patrol, but when he had woken up, he had worn just a simple pair of breeches and a tunic.</p>
<p>Someone else had taken off his armour and now he had no idea where it was.</p>
<p>He didn’t realize how hard he was gripping the bedframe until splinters were digging into his skin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Out of nowhere, a hand appeared on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Without thinking about it, he reeled backwards and swung at the same time. His fist connected with *something* with a sickening *crack*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck<br/>Fuck<br/>Fuck</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He prayed that it was another Witcher. That blow would have killed a human.</p>
<p>Cursing he stumbled backwards, foot catching on something and he was falling. A sharp pain exploded on the back of his head, joining the one in his hand.</p>
<p>“Marik, fuck. Marik breathe! I should not have snook up on you like that, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Aubry, was it Aubry? Damn wolves, only ones sneakier were the damn Cats.</p>
<p>“You alright? You hit your head pretty hard.”</p>
<p>“‘m fine.”</p>
<p>“‘Tis probably still better if I take a look, don’t want Marigold to get mad.”</p>
<p>A mad Triss was a force to be reckoned with, so he leaned forward, letting Aubry, who he assumed was kneeling in front of him.</p>
<p>“I’m going to touch you head now.” He was thankful that Aubry announced his movement, that way he could brace for it. For the strangeness that was gentle touch to him.</p>
<p>Over his lifetime not many people had touched him willingly, gently.</p>
<p>Sometimes, when he had the coin, he’d go to a whorehouse, not for the sex, he’d never understood what everyone found so great about it, but for the companionship. One of the girls would braid his hair while he told them about his adventures.</p>
<p>Taking in deep breaths through his nose, fuck, *now* he smelled the other Witcher. What kind of pathetic Witcher was he? Not noticing when another entered his den. Not catching the scent, not hearing the heartbeat of another?</p>
<p>Maybe that was the reason the griffin got the better of him.</p>
<p>If it hadn’t been for his brothers he’d be dead by now.</p>
<p>Maybe that would be better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Marik? Marik, hey. I can’t see anything that needs a healer, but you should lie down.” Aubry let go of his head. But Marik was not prepared to be hauled upwards by his arms.</p>
<p>“I’m fine! I told you I’m fine! Let go!” He pushed Aubry away, away from him.</p>
<p>“At least let me…” The other Witcher started again.</p>
<p>“No! Fuck off!” He was still holding the pauldron, so he hurled it in the direction of Aubry. He wouldn’t hit him, not without his eyes.</p>
<p>Why could people not just leave him alone!</p>
<p>Aubry left, thankfully.</p>
<p>The door clicked shut and finally, he was alone. No one to prod and pity and and and… </p>
<p>“Fuck!” He cried out. Pushing himself up, trying to find his bed. </p>
<p>Another curse when he bumped into a chair.</p>
<p>Finally, finally, he found it. Ripping off his boots, flinging them across the room he settled down to sleep.</p>
<p>From one second to the other all the anger and frustration just, went away. Now he was only left with, with nothing. Nothing holding him up. </p>
<p>Witchers didn’t cry.<br/>Witchers didn’t cry.<br/>Witchers didn’t fucking cry.</p>
<p>But he couldn’t help it. Felt how a tear spilled from his unseeing eye.</p>
<p>Then another.<br/>And another. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warning for:<br/>depression<br/>internalized ableism<br/>emotionally stunted witchers</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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